The path to the Forson Ridge was not long, but today it felt endless.
The forest canopy swayed overhead, casting shifting shadows across the dirt trail. Birds scattered as the scouting party approached. Even the wind carried a strange, uneasy tension — as if the forest itself sensed what lay beneath the earth.
Twelve adventurers.
Swords, bows, staves.
Veterans and new blood.
And in the center of them, walking with silent steps and glowing runes—
Friezzar.
Lyra walked beside him, doing her best to keep her hand near his in case he faltered. Arden walked ahead, his blade strapped and ready.
Every few minutes…
Friezzar stopped.
Not from exhaustion — for he had none.
But because he felt it.
A pulse.
Soft, faint, but unmistakable.
Come.
Come.
Come.
His carved chest glowed in response, pulsing in rhythm like a second heartbeat.
Every time it happened, Lyra glanced at him with worry.
"Friezzar… are you in pain?"
He shook his head.
"…not hurt," he whispered.
"Then what does it feel like?"
He placed a wooden hand over his chest.
"…calling."
Arden grimaced.
"That's what worries me."
The dungeon's heartbeat grew stronger the closer they got to the ridge.
Even the earth felt restless.
The trees thinned — and the Forson Ridge finally came into view, jagged stone towering over them like a titan's broken crown. At its base lay the collapsed tunnel they had escaped only days ago.
Except now…
It glowed.
Not brightly — but with a faint, eerie shimmer. Pale blue veins of mana spread across the cracked stone like spiderwebs. Dust drifted upward instead of down, as if gravity had lost patience with the place.
The younger adventurers shivered.
"That's not natural…"
"What's happening to it?"
"Dungeons don't just… relight themselves—"
Oren Valen strode to the front of the group.
"Well," he said grimly, "here we are. Stay alert."
He gestured at Friezzar.
"Puppet. Step forward."
Lyra flinched at the command.
But Friezzar obeyed.
He walked toward the collapsed entrance—
and the glow intensified.
His runes pulsed.
The ground vibrated.
The air thinned with pressure.
Friezzar raised a hand—
and touched the stone.
The dungeon responded instantly.
BOOM.
A shockwave rippled from the ridge, knocking several adventurers backward.
Lyra staggered; Arden grabbed her.
Friezzar didn't move.
The collapsed stone… began to shift.
Dust exploded outward.
Rocks rolled aside as if pushed by invisible hands.
The earth trembled with the effort of opening a sealed wound.
And then—
The entrance widened.
Reforming.
Rearranging.
Reopening.
To welcome him.
Lyra stared in horror.
"Arden… it's letting him in."
Arden's jaw clenched so tight it trembled.
"It's recognizing its… whatever he is."
Friezzar took a step forward.
The dungeon pulsed.
Welcome.
Lyra grabbed his arm.
"Wait."
He looked at her hand…
then at her face.
"…Lyra… safe?"
Her breath caught.
"Yes. But—"
She glanced at the others.
"They aren't."
The scouting team held their weapons up, shaking but resolute.
Friezzar took a step back.
Not from fear.
But because Lyra was afraid.
And that mattered more.
Oren swallowed hard.
"Everyone inside. Slowly. Do NOT touch anything unless instructed."
The party began descending into the reawakened tunnel.
Friezzar walked behind Arden and Lyra, each step syncing with the dungeon's pulse.
Boom.
Boom.
Boom.
The darkness swallowed them.
Inside the Wound
The air grew heavy.
Moist.
Warm.
The walls pulsed faintly with mana, like flesh around a beating heart. But unlike days ago, the dungeon wasn't collapsing. It was…
Growing.
Reforming.
Adapting.
The adventurers murmured nervously.
"This place was dead…"
"Why's everything glowing?"
"There's no monsters… are they hiding?"
Arden raised a hand.
"Quiet."
Friezzar walked ahead of Lyra, eyes dilating slightly as he gazed at the new walls.
"…changed…"
Lyra nodded.
"Yes. It's different from before."
Oren kept his gaze sharp on Friezzar.
"How does it feel?"
Friezzar paused.
He lifted a hand.
Pressed it against the wall again.
A tremor of energy rushed through him.
He trembled.
His runes brightened.
His eyes widened.
"…alive…"
Lyra swallowed.
"Friezzar… what do you sense?"
He tilted his head, confused by the sensations flooding him.
"Hunger," he whispered.
The team tensed immediately.
Oren barked, "Is it your hunger, or the dungeon's?"
Friezzar shook his head violently.
"…not Friezzar.
Dungeon… hungry."
Silence spread.
Horrified silence.
Lyra gripped his arm, voice soft with fear.
"You mean… the dungeon itself… needs to feed?"
Friezzar nodded once.
"…feed… core… broken…"
His glowing eyes dimmed.
"…needs… Friezzar…"
Arden tensed.
"Why? For what?"
Friezzar pressed his hand harder to the wall.
The wall responded with a faint glow.
A word formed in his mind.
A word he barely understood.
"…repair."
Lyra gasped.
"You're meant to FIX the dungeon?"
Oren cursed loudly.
"This is worse than I imagined."
The Echo in the Depths
They continued deeper.
The walls changed.
Runes shimmered in unfamiliar patterns.
Shadows curled unnaturally.
And the faint glow of essence drifted in the air like dust.
Friezzar slowed.
He held a hand out, stopping the party.
Arden stiffened.
"What is it?"
Friezzar didn't answer immediately.
He listened.
The dungeon whispered.
Soft.
Broken.
Afraid.
Then he whispered:
"…monster… near."
Weapons came out instantly.
"Positions!" Oren ordered.
Lyra stood behind Friezzar, shaking slightly.
Friezzar stared into the darkness.
Not with fear.
With certainty.
The thing approaching wasn't like the monsters he'd fought before.
This one…
felt familiar.
A shape emerged.
Four-legged.
Skittering.
Hollow-eyed.
Its essence flickered weakly.
A corrupted beast.
Created—
recently.
Not naturally.
Arden hissed.
"That's no normal monster."
Lyra trembled.
"What IS it?"
Friezzar stepped forward, runes glowing.
"…hurt…"
Lyra blinked.
"Hurt?"
Friezzar nodded.
"…not… hunt.
It… lost."
The corrupted beast limped into the faint dungeon glow.
Its body was warped, unfinished — like a creature sculpted halfway, then abandoned.
Lyra softly gasped.
"Oh gods… it looks broken…"
Arden lifted his sword.
"Broken or not, it's dangerous—"
Before he could finish—
The creature stumbled.
Looked up.
Locked hollow eyes with Friezzar.
And whimpered.
The sound echoed through the hall like a dying cry.
Lyra's heart twisted.
Arden froze.
Oren's eyes narrowed with horror.
Friezzar whispered:
"…child."
Everyone tensed.
"What?" Arden snapped.
"…child," Friezzar repeated.
"Of dungeon… like Friezzar…"
Lyra covered her mouth, tears gathering.
"It's another vessel."
Arden lowered his sword slowly.
"So the dungeon's trying to… make more constructs?"
Oren exhaled, dread sinking into his voice.
"And failing."
The creature collapsed forward, trembling.
Friezzar walked toward it slowly.
The scouting team panicked.
"Don't—!"
"It might explode—"
"It could be contagious—!"
Lyra held out a hand.
"No.
Let him."
Friezzar knelt in front of the creature.
It weakly lifted its head.
Its essence flickered faintly.
Friezzar touched the top of its skull gently.
The creature leaned into his hand—
just for a moment.
Then its essence vanished.
It dissolved into dust and mana fragments—
absorbed harmlessly into the air.
Friezzar whispered.
"…gone."
Lyra knelt beside him.
"That poor thing…"
Arden tightened his grip on his weapon.
"Oren. If the dungeon is trying to replace Friezzar—"
"It means Friezzar isn't a fluke," Oren murmured.
"He's a prototype."
Lyra swallowed hard.
"But why…?"
Friezzar rose slowly.
His runes dimmed to a soft blue, sorrowful.
He turned to them.
And whispered:
"…find… core."
Oren exhaled heavily.
"Everyone move.
We reach the dungeon heart today."
Lyra nodded, placing her hand gently on Friezzar's.
"You're not alone."
Friezzar didn't move.
But his runes brightened faintly.
"…Lyra… safe."
Arden sighed.
"For the love of—yes, Lyra is safe. But WE are not, so move!"
The team pressed deeper into the glowing labyrinth.
Behind them…
Something huge shifted in the shadows.
Watching.
Following.
Waiting.